


Get Out

by clumsygyrl (thegirlthatisclumsy)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Troy (2004) RPF
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, M/M, babble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-29
Updated: 2004-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatisclumsy/pseuds/clumsygyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric’s eyes narrowed at Orlando.  The sad little melancholy smile playing at his lips, over that stupid brown pink disaster of a drink.  “Please don’t tell me you’re a maudlin drunk, Orlando.  It’s not the time nor the place.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Out

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All I own are my thoughts, the rest is hubris. So, no I don't own the men I write about...
> 
> Written years ago, any and all mistakes and typos are belong to me.

It wasn’t that Orlando was dumb. It was just that he had a lot to say and sometimes his mouth never caught up with or missed whatever it was his mind wanted to get out.

“Y’ see it’s like this…”

Eric squinted at Orlando over the rim of his pint glass. “It’s like what, Orlando?”

Orlando scowled at him. “Orli, Eric. How many times d’ I have to tell y’? All my mates call me Orli.”

“What if I don’t want to be your mate?” Eric asked licking at his top lip, the Fosters pale foam disappearing under the quick intelligent flick.

Orlando blinked at that. Everyone wanted to be friends with him. He was a likeable guy. He thought that they were having a grand time; that they’d had a grand time filming in Malta, and that… Well, bloody hell. Everyone liked him. Why the hell wouldn’t Eric want to be his friend? That was infuriating and irksome. Because honestly - - “Even Brad likes me and he can be a right arse.” 

There went his mouth again, not starting or finishing what he meant.

All Eric did in reply was quirk an eyebrow at Orlando and raise his hand for another beer. 

Orlando fumed silently into his glass. Something silly and sweet, and it must have been pink at one time, but he’d poured a Coke into it to cut the all too fruity taste.

Hah. Fruity. It wasn’t as if Orlando had been imagining Eric during filming naked. No, wait that’s wrong. He had been imagining Eric during filming. He had imagined Eric naked and sweaty and oily with that sword in hand.

No, no. He meant that - - “He looked good handling a sword not that he was naked.”

“What?” Eric sputtered looking over at Orlando, bemusement and something else in his eyes. 

Orlando flushed hotly. “Erhm, what what?”

“What the fuck are you babbling on about over there? Who looked good handling a sword not naked?” Long blunt shaped fingertips slid down the edges of the slightly frosted glass, tracking long silvers of amberyellow light where the beer shone through.

It reminded Orlando of the time when he’d convinced Eric to go out to that new blue expanse. The Mediterranean was warm and welcoming, something like New Zealand but different. The sun had been a golden yellow, pale but bright, if that made any sense at all. Looking back and watching Eric paddle out with him, the waves and sea welcoming him home as if he were made there. Like two brothers adrift in a mutual sense of wonder, it would be easy to pretend that this was the past and that they were truly Hector and Paris. A joyous time for both, before Helen, before war, before - - “Too many emotions got in the way.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed at Orlando. The sad little melancholy smile playing at his lips, over that stupid brown pink disaster of a drink. “Please don’t tell me you’re a maudlin drunk, Orlando. It’s not the time nor the place.” 

Orlando blinked and looked around. Black and white and glittering colours, it’d been a faraway dream once. To be rubbing elbows at something like this, the Oscars no less. An afterparty for the Oscars where he wasn’t just invited but waited for with bated breath for his feet to touch a blood red carpet. He supposed there was some metaphor there, but damned if he could think of what it was. His first love had bloodied his nose when he broke it off. Even his first girlfriend hadn’t done that, but no- - “Thomas wasn’t like that. He clocked me one good.”

Eric made a disgusted noise and set down his half finished beer and hauled Orlando up by the elbow ignoring the indignant squawk. “Come on you. I’ll get you back to the hotel and sobered up. You still have press to do. Don’t want Beanie to laugh at you if you throw up on someone’s sandals tomorrow.”

“I only did that once cuz I had some bad couscous the night before.” Orlando said petulantly dragging his feet. Wincing when he remembered how much his shoes had cost, he picked up his feet and let Eric deposit him in the back of one of the many waiting limos that lined the street. “Shouldn’t I go pay my respects to… Puff Diddily?”

Eric climbed in and shut the door behind him. “Not if you’re going to call him that.” He said with a chuckle and wrapped a brotherly arm around Orlando’s shoulder and shifted over so Orlando could rest his head on his shoulder.

Orlando settled against Eric, it wasn’t unusual for him to cuddle with his costars. He’d practically made it a law with the hobbits and Viggo. Even Sean hadn’t escaped the odd snuggle, and wasn’t surprised when Orlando leaned on him during filming for Troy. It was just something Orlando did. Though truth be told being this close to Eric was a little more than brotherly to Orlando. Well, unless one’s brothers were from the American South and one heard Deliverance type background music. But that was neither here nor there. The sad fact was that Orlando was in deep lust if not love with Eric. Lust most definitely. Look at the man. Who wouldn’t want to try and shag the Incredible Hulk?

“What was that?” Eric mumbled shaking himself out of the half asleep daze he was in, tipping his head toward Orlando, nose half buried in the too long hair long ago pulled free from the rubber band. 

Orlando stilled and his eyes widened. Had he said that last part out loud? “What was what?” 

“You wanted to shag the Incredible Hulk?”

“Er, yeah. When I was a kid, always wanted to know if it were possible for the guy t’ shag, y’know?” Orlando fidgeted and tried to pull out of the suddenly too warm half embrace. No success, however. Eric just tightened his arm around Orlando’s slender frame.

“Nah uh, Orlando. Out with it. You’ve been stewing over something for a while.” Eric moved to settle against the door, head pressed against the window.

Orlando watched the streetlights flashing across Eric’s face. Shadow and light and shadow and light. He sighed softly. “It’s… sometimes my mind it goes and goes and things don’t come out the way that I want them to. I talk and talk or I forget pieces and it all ends up a bloody mess.”

“I have noticed that, Orlando.”

“Orli.” He corrects absently and waves a hand. “I… It’s just that. Okay, so what would you say if I said I wanted to maybe possibly snog you within an inch of coherent thought?” There, that came out mostly sensible word formation.

Eric blinked at Orlando.

Orlando blinked back. Bugger.

“Sorry, I. Nevermind, mate. I. Talkin’ outta my head ag--.”

The rest of whatever Orlando was going to say was lost against and in Eric’s mouth. The kiss tasted like beer and mint and oranges. Lips slightly rough and chapped, but nice. Oh, very nice. Broad warm palms against his neck, thick fingers tangling in his hair. Tugging slightly, nice warm tingling pleasurepain. Oh.

Eric pulled back and smiled shaking his head. “Orli, you think too hard, love.”

“You talk too much.” Orlando grinned and tugged Eric back for another kiss. 

It wasn’t that Orlando was dumb. It was just that he had a lot to say and sometimes his mouth never caught up with or missed whatever it was his mind wanted to get out.

Sometimes his mouth was too busy with other things to get the words out anyway.

And he was quite fine with that.

 

fin


End file.
